building. It was market day, and a vast gathering of natives rent the air with lamentation, their tearful eyes and boding hearts following the smoke columns as they dissipated into space, the concrete symbols of their faith, without rousing a single angry god to avenge the act. Similar destructions were perpetrated in different towns, the Franciscans alone claiming to have destroyed more than five hundred temples and twenty thousand images within seven years.
Fear of the Spaniards made idolatrous exhibitions rare, except in the remote districts, nevertheless the rites retained their hold even upon a large proportion of the converts, for it proved no easy matter to uproot superstitions cherished during a lifetime, and to ruthlessly cast aside idols to whom so many blessings were attributed. Many placed the images behind the crosses and saint tablets, or worshipped them with elaborate ceremonies, In common with others, in secret localities.[1] When remonstrated with for his obstinacy, a cacique once exclaimed: "How is it," pointing to a picture of a saint, "that you Spaniards preach so much against idolatry while you yourselves worship images?" The Spaniard replied with the usual explanation "that they did not adore the images, but gazed on them in meditation of the great virtues of the saints whom they represent." Hereupon the chieftain remarked: "Neither do we worship images of gold or wood; our prayers and sacrifices are offered to God." The friars made strenuous efforts to stop this evil, and aided by their young disciples great progress was made, though not without sacrifice, notably in Tlascala, where the son of a cacique fell a victim to
- ↑ Camargo states that several caciques were hanged by Cortés, with consent of the Tlascaltec leaders, for relapsing into idolatry. Hist. Tlax., 178. The obstinacy of the idolaters was attributed both by friars and converts to the evil one, and in their paintings the latter depicted this personage hovering with his servants round the Christian meeting-places and seeking to entice away the worshippers. Leon, Camino del Cielo, 95. Several of these curious specimens of native art, merging into Spanish, are given in the MS. work of Beaumont, Crón. Mich., and aid to give this a value not possessed by the lately printed issue.
